Chapter 1: "Game Over… or New Beginning?"
September 10, 2025
Richard had never been what you might call "a lucky man."
At 28, he lived in a small apartment in New York City that smelled of cold pizza, gamer sweat, and a touch of "questionable decisions." His rent was so expensive that his fridge had more air than food, he worked as a fast-food delivery driver, and he spent more time saving virtual worlds than cleaning up the mess that was his own.
In his own words:
> "If life were a video game, I'd be the NPC who gives you junk quests… but with no reward. Literally, not a single achievement unlocked."
Richard was the kind of person who could recite every line in Star Wars by heart, debate which was the best arc in One Piece, and finish Dark Souls without armor, but who still couldn't separate white clothes from colored ones. His real life was bugged from the start.
That night, after a binge-watching series, three cans of energy drinks, and a Reddit discussion about why The Last of Us Part II was "a misunderstood masterpiece," he went to work.
It was his night shift, and he hated it. New York at night was unforgiving, and Richard, with his old bicycle and headphones in, was basically a waiting statistic.
The app flagged a new order:
"Extra Bacon Double Cheese Supreme Combo" for an apartment on Fifth Avenue. A good tip, he thought. Or at least he hoped.
He pedaled while muttering to himself,
"Come on, Richie… if you deliver this fast, you might get a month of Netflix and some ramen."
The wind hit his face, the city lights flickered, and everything seemed almost… normal.
Until it wasn't.
Two blocks from his destination, Richard checked the directions on his phone, turned the wrong corner, and didn't see the truck.
He didn't see the truck, didn't hear the horn, didn't process anything. There was only an instant when he felt the world shut down.
He didn't even have time to scream.
Just... black.
Silence.
Darkness.
And, in some corner of his mind, one last thought crossed like a distant echo:
> "Is this what game over feels like?... I hope there's at least a continue."
—
Richard opened his eyes slowly. The first thing he felt was… nothing. There was no cold, no heat, not even his breathing. He was in a strange place where everything seemed sharper, as if someone had increased the resolution of reality to 8K with RTX enabled.
In front of him, a vast, elegant office stretched as far as the eye could see. Polished mahogany walls, golden curtains that fell like waterfalls of light, and a massive white marble desk that looked more expensive than his entire apartment combined… three times over. On the desk was a small golden plaque that read:
> "Department of Reincarnation and Multiversal Opportunities"
Richard blinked several times.
"…Okay, did I die or did I enter Jeff Bezos's office?"
Behind the desk, a tall, thin man was calmly observing him. He was wearing an impeccable black suit, so perfect it looked rendered. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and he wore round glasses that reflected a strange glow. When he spoke, his voice sounded as if Morgan Freeman and Darth Vader had had a child.
"Welcome, Richard." His smile was calm, but intimidating. "My name is... well, it doesn't matter. Some call me the Grim Reaper, others the Manager of the Afterlife. But you can call me... Steve."
Richard looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"...Steve. The Grim Reaper's name is Steve? What's next? The devil's name is Paco?"
"Believe me," Steve replied, adjusting his glasses, "it's easier to pronounce than my real name. If you tried, your lungs would explode."
Richard swallowed. His eyes dropped to his hands and he almost had a heart attack... if he still had a heart. They were translucent, like a cheap hologram.
"Hey... this isn't normal." He took a deep breath, though he couldn't feel the air. "Tell me this is a dream. Please tell me I'm in a coma and my uncle is going to pull the plug on me while Despacito plays on the radio."
"Technically, you are dead." Steve flipped through a large file with his name in gold letters. "Let's see... truck, corner of 12th and Broadway. Time of impact: 11:47 PM. Last sentence before dying: 'At least the tip will be good.'"
Richard clenched his fists.
"I can't avoid performance reports even if I'm dead... great."
Steve smiled slightly, folding his hands on the desk.
"Don't get depressed, Richie. Here comes the interesting part." He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "You have been selected as the lucky winner of the 'Omniversal Sweepstakes.'"
Richard raised an eyebrow.
"The what of the what?"
"A raffle." Steve straightened his tie. "Among millions of souls, you were chosen for… a second chance."
Richard's eyes widened.
"Did I… win anything? Money? A lifetime Netflix membership? A limited-edition waifu?"
"Better." Steve held out a glittering contract in front of him. "You'll be reincarnated in another world."
Richard leaned forward, his heart—if he had one—thumping a mile a minute.
"Okay, wait… what do you mean 'another world'? What are we talking about here? Narnia? Marvel? Star Wars? Please tell me there are lightsabers. If I go to Tatooine, I want a purple saber. It's non-negotiable."
Steve let out a deep laugh.
"You'll have to find out for yourself. I can only tell you this: you know him VERY well."
Richard's eyes glittered.
"...A video game world? Anime? A TV show? Oh my God! If you send me to Breaking Bad, I demand to be Jesse!"
"Patience, gamer." Steve slowly stood up, and with a snap of his fingers, a giant spinning roulette wheel appeared in front of them, filled with strange symbols: swords, guns, magic powers, spaceships, and... a rubber duck?
Richard looked at it, stunned.
"...Okay, that's new."
"Before I send you," Steve explained, holding up a finger, "you get three spins on our gacha roulette wheel. Whatever comes up... will be yours."
Richard narrowed his eyes, grinning like a player smelling a legendary skin.
"If I roll a broken power, like 'god mode' or 'infinite harem,' I swear I won't complain."
"Or," Steve said, his tone wickedly calm, "you could end up with... a paper clip."
Cold sweat broke out on Richard's invisible forehead.
"...Okay, don't push my luck. I already know how gacha works. If this is like Genshin Impact, I'm screwed."
Steve grinned broadly.
"We'll find out... now."
The sound of the roulette wheel filled the air, as Richard's heart pounded faster than ever.
---
The gacha wheel floated in the air, spinning slowly, as if mocking Richard. The symbols glittered: legendary swords, arcane grimoires, psychic powers, sports cars, piles of gold… and also absurd things like used socks, a banana, a rubber duck, and even a pack of Doritos.
Richard swallowed.
"Okay, Richie... think. Three spins. Only three. If luck exists, it's now..." He looked up at the sky, even though there was no sky. "God, Buddha, Goku, whoever... don't let me down."
Steve crossed his arms, grinning like someone watching a live reality show.
"Anytime, gamer boy."
Richard closed his eyes, placed his hands on the holographic lever, and slammed it down.
---
Spin 1 🎰
The wheel spun faster and faster. The colors mingled in a hypnotic spiral. Each click resonated like a heartbeat in Richard's chest.
"Come on, come on... give me something broken, give me god mode, give me... anything but a rubber duck!"
TING!
A beam of golden light illuminated the room. An icon appeared above Richard's head: 🧠 IQ of 191.
Richard gasped in disbelief.
"What... What does this mean? Am I... a genius?"
Steve nodded calmly, examining a floating tablet.
"Correct." He raised an eyebrow. "You have the same level of intelligence as Stephen Hawking... and a little more."
Richard smiled, almost in tears.
"Ha! I'm literally Tony Stark!" He raised his arms in victory. "Well... without the millionaire part... for now."
"For now," Steve repeated, amused. Just remember, intelligence isn't invulnerability. If you jump into a volcano, it doesn't matter how many algorithms you calculate: you'll still die.
"Let me enjoy my moment, Steve!"
---
Roll 2 🎰
Richard rubbed his hands together like a professional gambler.
"Okay, let's go for something physical. Give me muscles, give me agility, give me a shonen protagonist's body."
"Or you could pull out a paper clip," Steve murmured casually.
"Don't scare me, Steve."
Richard lowered the lever. The wheel spun even faster, shooting off sparks of light. The metallic sound echoed as if fate were laughing at him.
TING!
Another icon appeared above his head: 🏃♂️ Maximum Athletic Talent.
Richard blinked.
"...Wait, wait, wait." —He pointed at himself, incredulous. —Are you telling me that I… I… am going to be able to run without gasping for air after thirty seconds?
—Correct. —Steve smiled as he reviewed the file. —In fact, you could play in the NBA, participate in the Olympics, or…—he paused dramatically——run from zombies, depending on which world you're in.
Richard almost fell to his knees.
—I'll finally be able to walk up some stairs without feeling like I'm going to die! Thanks, universe!
—Or you could end up in a world where people fly and everyone sees you as slow, —Steve commented, shrugging.
—…Steve, don't kill my hype.
---
Spin 3 🎰
Richard took a deep breath.
"Last spin. This is the important one. I need something stylish, something to make me unforgettable... something... legendary."
Steve leaned across the desk, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Or you could pull out the rubber duck."
"Shut up, Steve. Don't summon the duck."
Richard pulled the lever. This time, the wheel spun so fast it seemed to disintegrate. Gold, blue, purple lights... the atmosphere vibrated as if the universe itself was holding its breath.
TING!
Icon unlocked: 😎 Sitcom-star charisma.
Richard blinked.
"...Charisma?"
Steve nodded.
"Yes. Now, technically, you're charming by default. Anyone who hears you speak, willingly or not, will feel sympathy for you."
Richard smiled, almost glowing.
"Perfect. Smart, athletic, and charming. If this new world doesn't love me, it's broken."
Steve closed the file with a sharp click.
"Well, get ready, Richie. You're going to be reborn."
Richard swallowed, nervous and excited.
"Okay... and where are you going to send me? Wakanda? Konoha? Middle-earth?"
Steve smiled disturbingly calmly.
"An orphanage."
"...What? What do you mean, an orphanage?"
"Yes. An orphanage in Los Angeles, California." He adjusted his glasses. "Relax, you'll survive. Well... probably."
Richard clutched his head in despair.
"An orphanage? With these abilities? I'm a super-genius with legendary charisma! I need an evil corporation to destroy or an alien army to lead!"
Steve shrugged, as if explaining the ending of Lost.
"Sometimes, great heroes start at the bottom. Way down. Extremely down. So low that you'll question your life choices."
Richard stared at him.
"...Steve. If they make me sleep on rusty bunks, I'm coming to find you."
"Good luck trying to find me." He smiled. "The next episode of your life starts... now."
Suddenly, the ground disappeared beneath Richard's feet. He felt himself sucked into a vortex of light. His last thought, before he vanished, was:
> "Please, at least let the orphanage have Wi-Fi..."
—
January 5, 1993
Richard opened his eyes slowly, and suddenly… everything was different.
The first thing he noticed was the white sky above him, illuminated by soft lights. Then, the sound of muffled, distant voices, as if he were underwater. The air smelled clean, with a faint aroma of talcum powder and soap. Something warm and soft enveloped him: a blue blanket.
He tried to move, but his body felt strange… small, weak, clumsy. He looked at his hands and almost panicked: they were tiny, chubby, incapable of making a firm fist.
"…What…?" He tried to speak, but only a mumble came out.
His adult brain screamed, but his new body betrayed him. After a moment of shock, a soft female voice brought him out of his thoughts.
"Ah, you're awake, little one…" said a young woman in her thirties, her hair tied back and wearing a white apron. Her smile was warm, comforting.
She gently picked him up, cradling him against her chest. It was then that Richard saw, for the first time, the sign on the wall:
> "California Children's Home Society"
His heart—if it was still his—squeezed. He understood. He was in an orphanage.
For a moment, he thought about everything that meant: abandonment, loneliness, uncertainty… but his analytical mind, now much calmer, processed it differently.
> "Okay, Richie… calm down. Breathe… well, metaphorically. You don't have rent to pay, you don't have bills, you don't have to run around delivering food by bike at midnight. This… could be better than it looks."
He looked around as the caretaker led him down the hallway. The walls were freshly painted in warm tones; it wasn't a gloomy place, but clean and well-maintained. There were children's drawings taped up, small shelves with stuffed animals, and the soft echo of laughter and tiny footsteps.
They passed a large room with colorful rugs and toys scattered on the floor. There, several children were playing, but not all of them were laughing. Some had a lost look in their eyes, others hugged teddy bears tightly, as if seeking comfort. Richard, although now a newborn, felt their emotions: abandonment, fear, hope.
> "Poor things... all these children were left behind. Some may not even know why. It's not fair... but at least here they seem to be well cared for."
The caregiver placed him in a crib next to other babies. Beside him, a barely month-old girl slept soundly, cuddling a small cloth bunny. Another baby cried softly, while a nurse approached to calm him patiently.
Richard, still processing everything, felt something unexpected: peace.
> "My whole previous life was chaos… bills, low-paying jobs, constant stress. Here, for the first time, I don't have to worry about anything. Just… exist. Be cared for. Grow. It's like… a respite I never knew I needed."
Suddenly, he heard another caregiver speaking in a caring tone to a group of older children in the distance:
"Come on, kids, today is art class. Afterward, you can play in the playground."
Richard smiled inwardly.
> "Okay, this is better than I expected. No yelling bosses, no debt, no toxic adults. I can start from scratch, calmly. And this time… I'll do things right."
As the overhead lights shone softly above him, tiredness overcame him. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep, feeling truly at peace for the first time in years.
Before he fell asleep, his last thought was:
> "Thanks, Steve… I think this is the best checkpoint of my life."
—
I hope you like my story